


it's not too lonely

by mingghues



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Light Angst, M/M, No Dialogue, One Shot, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 05:20:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16011101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingghues/pseuds/mingghues
Summary: it's not too lonely, his mind tells him.stop lying, his heart replies.





	it's not too lonely

Minghao wakes up in his queen size bed, white sheets and white comforters and white pillows. One time he had enjoyed them, had snuggled into the plush of his bed instead of forcing himself out as soon as he woke up.

This morning, though, he rolls onto his stomach. He lingers, surrounded by a ghost of a warmth. Looking out his window he thinks to himself, _it’s not too lonely_. The sky outside is blue, forcing itself through tall buildings and even taller expectations. If Minghao thinks back to when he was younger, he can imitate the sound of cicadas humming, pretend they’re real. He does a lot of pretending nowadays.

Another ten minutes and he makes his way out of bed, hissing as the cold wooden floors lick at his feet, seeping coldness throughout his body. Minghao’s studio apartment is quiet, nothing but the sound of his feet padding around. His walls are barren, but if he looks close enough he can see forgotten shreds of tape, holes of nails reminding him of what was. He gave up decorating a while ago.

_It’s not too lonely_ , Minghao’s mind reminds him as he waits for his morning coffee to brew. The machine rumbles loudly as it splatters hot coffee into Minghao’s cup, a loud start to an everyday routine. He has a hoodie on, now. One that is too large and bunches up around his shoulders from being on a hanger for too long. If Minghao closes his eyes, he can recall memories of dinners he spilled too much food and laughed too loud. If he closes his eyes longer, tighter, he can see the face across from him.

Minghao doesn’t allow himself more than a blink.

It’s a Saturday, so despite all the loudness of the city around him, he doesn’t have to rush. It’s a slow start, and he spends a half hour walking around the apartment, coffee in hand and feet still bare. He allows himself to peek down at the street below him, used to the feeling of being too scared to fall. People bump into each other and car horns blare defensively. He watches people on their bicycles narrowly avoid hitting people walking their dogs. Minghao thinks the apartment is too expensive for the view he gets, but it’s too late. He’s too attached.

Somewhere between yawning and the sun rising high in the sky, Minghao gets dressed. He tousles his hair, glaring at himself in the mirror before deciding he didn’t feel like putting the effort in. He pulls the strands of hair into a low ponytail, one that stands small and proud at the base of his neck. The sleepy feeling of the morning has worn off, and Minghao’s mind is no longer clouded with the thoughts of someone else. No, he doesn’t have the time for that. Yet somehow, in the back of his mind, he knows he will have the time for it later, when he’s laying in bed and the city lights are groggily turning on.

It’s much louder outside, lunchtime calling for chatty girls and overzealous boys to flood the streets. Minghao looks up at his apartment building, wondering if he should slip back into bed and ignore the day and all the noise. He forces his feet to carry himself far away, maybe into the next town, headphones plugged in one ear, the other dangling, wishing for someone to share with. Surrounded by dozens upon dozens of people, Minghao doesn’t have to think about his loneliness too much. It stays at the bottom of his heart, aching and prodding distantly.

The Earth warms up, and by three o’clock Minghao is wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead. He allows himself to slow down, looking around. Stores line up around him, squeezing and pushing at each other. It reminds him of the subway, everything too close and in your face to be comfortable. He wonders if he should take a taxi home tonight.

Minghao gets in line at a chain-store coffee shop. He waits eighteen minutes, but his patience is endless. When he reaches the front, he still doesn’t know what he wants, so he blindly picks something. It isn’t until the cup is in his hand and halfway empty that he realizes it’s exactly what _he_ used to order. The rest of his overpriced drink ends up in the trash.

Hours pass like minutes, and suddenly the city is cloaked in a velvety black sky. Everything feels riskier, people wearing dark outfits and dark makeup, eyes searching to find someone to spend the night with. _It’s not too lonely_ , Minghao’s mind whispers as he watches a couple kiss in greeting, arms winding around each other like tree branches.

The day has passed like a hazy memory. Sometimes Minghao has to stop and think, trying to remember exactly what he had done in the past couple of hours. He stands on the sidewalk, waiting to see any sign of a taxi. Maybe it’s because it’s dark, or maybe it’s because Minghao misses him, but he thinks he sees a tall head. He squints, and the universe laughs at him as the other man comes clearer into view.

Minghao should have gone home hours ago. He knew it when he first left the house, and when he realized he had done nothing but wander around. He realizes it especially now, faced with what once was. Mingyu looks the same. Two years have passed and every feature is hauntingly, exactly the same. Minghao’s heart aches, because his heart is yearning for him the same way it did twenty-something months ago.

Mingyu is surrounded by his friends, some of which Minghao recognizes, some he doesn’t. He was always so good at that, that Mingyu. He made friends wherever he went, always eager and inviting. Perhaps that is what attracted Minghao to him in the first place, but he can’t recall just liking one thing about the other male. The longer he looks at him, the more tempting it is to walk right back into his life. It was Minghao who left, him who told Mingyu it was about time they went their separate ways. He was scared, but he can’t recall of what. Maybe scared of himself, because he knew he would drop everything and run away with Mingyu if he asked. Scared because he was so in love he thought this isn’t right, this _can't_ be right, there _has_ to be a catch.

If Mingyu’s eyes wander and land on Minghao, he doesn’t see. And if Mingyu starts walking over, Minghao won’t know. He’s too busy getting into the taxi, vision blurred and heart ripping itself apart.

Minghao lies in bed that night, staring at the ceiling. It was too quiet, the Saturday night sounds of the city muffled. If he picked up his phone, he could remember Mingyu’s number. He could call him, ask him to come over just to get rid of the silence. Minghao throws his phone to the other side of the room. His bed cradles and comforts him, but even as he sinks into sleep he can’t stop thinking.

_It’s too lonely_ , his heart reminds his mind, to which his mind fills his dreams of crooked smiles and a hug that would be warmer than his bed ever could be.

**Author's Note:**

> hello i haven't posted something in months so i hope this is enjoyable in a painful way.
> 
> please leave a comment and kudos and maybe i'll write continuation one day


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